


Blade of Chaos

by Llama1412



Series: Found Family Plottiness [5]
Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Episode Related, Episode: s01e08 Much More, Gen, Magic, Mother-Daughter Relationship, Post-Season/Series 01, Questioning everything you believe in
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-25
Updated: 2020-04-26
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:55:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,411
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23842600
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Llama1412/pseuds/Llama1412
Summary: After the Battle of Sodden Hill, Tissaia goes searching for Yennefer. What she finds is nothing she ever could have expected.
Relationships: Tissaia de Vries & Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg
Series: Found Family Plottiness [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1676068
Comments: 4
Kudos: 61





	1. Tissaia

**Author's Note:**

> The title is meant to be a play on Sword of Destiny, as Yennefer is very much discovering the sharp edge of Chaos's blade.

Tissaia’s nose burned with the stench of burned wood and flesh, and embers continued to dance in the air around her. She turned to her student, but where Yennefer had been, there was nothing – only the shimmer of floating embers and the cold rock Yennefer had made her stand on.

Tissaia closed her eyes. Was this the cost of forgetting the bottle? Did she destroy Yennefer by telling her to let her Chaos explode?

But she could still _feel_ Yennefer in the air around her, still smell the faint scent of lilac underneath the charcoal. Where was she? Where was Yennefer?

Tissaia called for her student desperately, hoping against hope that she’d somehow simply been displaced by the battle. But there was nothing, no trace of anything alive around her. And yet, still, that sense of Yennefer remained. 

She was torn – if there was any possibility Yennefer could be found, she would need urgent help. Shouldn’t Tissaia prioritize searching for her? 

But Yennefer had said Sabrina needed her help. Tissaia could still barely access Chaos, she didn’t know who still lived and who had died in the battle. In a way, she didn’t want to know. If she never knew, then she could pretend her students were alive, were stationed somewhere in Court and thriving, just as they were always meant to.

She wished her head would stop pounding so she could focus enough to think this through. With her connection to Chaos so tenuous, she feared the traces of Yennefer’s magic in the air would fade, that she would truly be lost. But she had a responsibility to all of her students – and some ( _all, please somehow let it be all_ ) of her students surely still lived. If they needed her help, she had to go to them,

But what could she do, back at the fort? She could barely feel the Chaos she was so used to having at her fingertips. Its absence felt like a vice around her throat. What was she without Chaos? She _needed_ it! Without Chaos, what could she do for Sabrina, for any of her students? What could she do for Yennefer, if this trail led somewhere?

But if she waited, if she went back to the fort, what if Yennefer’s trail disappeared? What if the one possibility to save her best student’s life would be lost if she went to her other students? 

She couldn’t risk it. It wasn’t favoritism, she reassured herself through the pain hammering in her skull. She was simply reserving her Chaos (what she had of it) for where it would do the most good. That was sound tactical advice. There was a reason she’d given it to Yennefer.

She closed her eyes and tried to reach for Chaos, tried to follow that trail outside her body with the essence of herself through Chaos, but her tie to power was weak, and she couldn’t keep her focus through the pain in her head.

But the trail led north, across the Yaruga river. Tissaia sighed. If she did not have the magic to portal, then on foot it was. She could manage that. Probably.

She took a deep breath and forced herself to move forward. The dimeritium had hit like a full body blow and her muscles trembled with weakness, but as she moved further away from the charred earth, she could feel her strength returning in a slow trickle. It was as if that spot, the last remainder of Yennefer’s fight, was sucking in all the Chaos around it. Free of it’s pull, she felt like she could finally breathe again.

What did it mean, if the marks of Yennefer’s fight still pulled on Chaos? Did that mean Yennefer was still paying the cost of burning the forest like that? But she’d drawn the fire from the damaged fort, hadn’t she? Tissaia would have expected that to be enough to offset the cost of Yennefer releasing her Chaos. Was she wrong?

She honestly didn’t know anymore. The world spun around her as she moved, but she kept placing one foot in front of the other. 

She should have known something was affecting her mind, keeping her hazy and focused only on moving forward. But with the pounding in her head and the world spinning around her, her chest still heaving to draw a full breath after the dimeritium bomb, Tissaia did not question her drive to keep moving.

––

What felt like a few moments later – though from the ache in her body, she suspected it had been rather longer – Tissaia found herself just within the shelter of a tall tree canopy. She could feel the Chaos around her, stronger than she had since the dimeritium had hit, and Tissaia finally felt like she could breathe properly again.

There was so much magic in the air here. Where was she?

At that moment, she found herself surrounded by warriors with bows drawn and spears pointing at her. The women were wearing leather armor and all were heavily armed. That plus the trees – was she in Brokilon Forest? How had she possibly wandered into this situation without noticing? Her Chaos was not recovered enough to fight her way out of this, she could tell immediately. Talking her way out of it was her only option.

Tissaia raised her hands in defeat. “My intent was not to intrude. I realize dryads don’t take kindly to outsiders.” She hesitated a moment and then decided honesty was her best course here. “I am Tissaia de Vries. I was following a trail from Sodden Hill, but I am not sure how I came to be here. I would not have intentionally trespassed.”

The warriors parted, and a broad woman who was clearly the leader stepped forward. “I am Queen Eithné. We were warned that Shan-Kayan had called another to Brokilon Forest. You followed the trail of magic from the sorceress?” 

Tissaia struggled to keep her face from revealing too much. “I did. What do you know of her?”

Queen Eithné surveyed her for a moment before turning sharply. “Come.”

With spears behind her, Tissaia followed with her head held high. Her muscles threatened to give at any moment, but she refused to stumble. They came to a rocky area where the forest backed up to huge stone outcroppings. In the center, larger than the other trees around it, one wide tree stretched out so that it seemed to cover the entire forest. Eithné stopped in front of the tree, and turned to Tissaia, who absolutely did _not_ wobble on her feet. 

“This is Shan-Kayan, the Heart of Brokilon.” Eithné said, “Shan-Kayan is linked to the Chaos of the world. When your sorceress unleashed her power, she also harnessed her life force. Her essence was scattered across Chaos. However, Shan-Kayan tells us that the cost of her magic was less than the price – and therefore, Shan-Kayan is collecting her essence. She shall be reformed, though we do not yet know the price Chaos shall demand for that.”

What? Tissaia’s resolve to remain standing abruptly deserted her. Her legs crumbled and she was only saved by collapsing onto the rocky ground by a warrior leaping forward to hold her up. 

“You must drink from the waters. They will restore you.” Tissaia eyed the offered gourd suspiciously, but if any of this was true, if there was any chance it was true, she owed them everything. Tissaia drank from the waters and dreamed.

––

_Yennefer stood before her, but not as the woman she knew today. This was the Yennifer from when they first met, the Yennefer who still wore her rage on her sleeve._

_“I won’t go! You can’t take me!”_

_From her first defiance, Tissaia had known that Yennefer was like her. She would need to learn control, but the sheer raw energy she exuded was incredible. It was all untapped, untamed – and it remained so, even as the girl struggled to lift a stone._

_Tissaia wanted to mold that energy, to shape it into a truly magnificent force._

_She had thought that was what Yennefer wanted, too. But all it took was one roadblock, and she walked away._

_Tissaia had tried to stop caring, she truly did. She had learned this lesson many times over – getting attached to students ended in heartbreak. Once they were initiated as mages, her students went out into the world, and she rarely saw them again. Even letters grew sparse over time._

_She knew this all very well, had known it since accepted the position at Aretuza. And yet, every time, she failed to stop her heart from wanting to embrace these kids._

_And they really were kids, when she got most of them. So young, and already rejected by their families, outcasted by their communities. Aretuza offered them hope and control – a place with people like you who could teach you to harness Chaos. And to control Chaos, one_ _must force down their emotions. So Tissaia shoved her heart deep down inside and went about her duties. Whether she cared too much or not, these girls were her responsibility to turn into proper mages. She was Rectress of Aretuza and Aretuza was_ everything _._

_Aretuza taught that transformation was painful, that Chaos could only be utilized with control._

_The dream changed in front of her to show the recent battle. Tissaia watched Yennefer gather the energy from the fires around the fort, her hands glowing. Yennefer walked up a rock to oversee the battlefield, and instead of staying on the ground where she had been, Tissaia followed Yennefer and watched her face as the young mage prepared to unleash her Chaos._

_Yennefer’s face was the opposite of control. Instead, there were so many emotions flashing across her face, it made Tissaia uncomfortable. Then Yennefer took a deep breath and created_ fire _and saved them all, saved the northern kingdoms, and saved the continent._

_How was it that the game-changing magic defied everything Tissaia believed in?_

_And what did it mean that she had told Yennefer to let her Chaos explode?_

––

Tissaia jerked awake with a gasp. She was laying on what appeared to be a cot made out of moss cradled in the roots of a tree. Around her, dryads were talking too rapidly for her to catch, still hazy from her dream. But it was clear something was happening, and she needed to know what.

She stood and was surprised to realize that she felt as if she were nearly recovered. How could that be? Tissaia had inhaled dimeritium – and she knew exactly what kind of damage that could do, invading your body and attacking your link to Chaos. It should have taken her a good week to recover her strength fully. And yet, right now, Tissaia felt like she could take on Nilfgaard again if she had to.

Did she have to? “What’s going on?” she asked one of the warriors.

“Shan-Kayan,” was all she said. Tissaia hated people who refused to provide necessary information. Shan-Kayan was what they called the magic tree, wasn’t it? Tissaia would have certainly gotten lost if she tried to make her own way through the forest to find Shan-Kayan, but fortunately, she was able to follow the whispering dryads.

When she came to the clearing she recognized from earlier, the dryads were so numerous that she had trouble getting past them. Tissaia contemplated casting a spell, but she was currently here under their mercy, and she couldn’t give them a reason to withdraw their help from Yennefer.

Even if Tissaia really didn’t understand what they meant by “she shall be reformed”. How could something like that truly be possible?

Finally, she made her way to the front of the crowd and found herself staring at the decidedly odd sight that appeared to be a tree expanding and forming a human-like shape. The shape was still part of the tree at first, but the bark slowly peeled away and Tissaia found herself looking into a face she hadn’t seen in half a century. Well, not like this, at least. But the face before her was still the one that came to mind when she thought of Yennefer. It was the only face she had truly known until recently, after all.

But how could she be seeing it now? Yennefer had undergone the transformation, and it was wholly irreversible. Everyone knew that.

In direct contradiction to her thoughts, the bark peeled fully away from the figure and it was very clearly the Yennefer she had known pre-transformation. The Yennefer before the glamour, before she had learned to control her emotions rather than give into them, before their relationship had devolved into snide quips and arguments. Tissaia stumbled forward, hardly aware of her body. As soon as she touched Yennefer’s face, her student slumped forward and Tissaia hurried to catch her and carry her gently to the ground.

Yennefer used to complain about the pain her twisted spine caused her, on days when she’d taken enough herbs to let her tongue loosen. Tissaia wondered if this magic had healed the pain or if Yennefer would suffer from daily pain for the rest of her very long life.

That was supposed to be one of the promises of Aretuza. To some, the most important promise: that once you ascended, you underwent transformation and all pains and deformities and imperfections were washed away, replaced with a creation of your own making.

Was this some sort of punishment for reaching for too much power? Yennefer had saved the continent – was this her repayment? To suffer eternally?

Or could this be what Yennefer had wanted? Had this strange magic healed her body in the ways she sought, at the cost of others? 

Did it truly matter? Either way, the shivering form in front of her would be waking up in an entirely different world from before.


	2. Yennefer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yennefer wakes up

When Yennefer slowly came back to awareness, the first thing she noticed was the pain. Yennefer was familiar with pain – it had haunted her steps the first 18 years of her life. Her release from pain had been through agony – the transformation was the worst pain she had ever experienced, but afterwards, she’d felt those first blessed moments when her muscles trembled from overexertion, and then… nothing. There was no pain.

That day had been momentus for many reasons. But it cemented something else in her: unless she had the power to prevent it, her choice would always be taken from her.

So Yennefer built her power. And finally the day came she made her first real decision for herself – she chose not to go back to Aedirn, not to return to Court and the ways of the Brotherhood of Sorcerers. She was tired of it, and she _needed_ something more out of life.

There was a craving in her, a black hole that had always existed and yearned for more, more, more. She wished she knew what it was she needed more of.

All she could think of was the way she’d had no choice but to undergo the transformation. Not just to be accepted in Court, to officially be a Mage representing the Brotherhood, but also to free herself from the pain.

Yennefer had often asked herself: if she had the freedom, would she have made the trade? Her womb in exchange for her pain? She honestly did not know what she would choose.

It would seem that, once again, Yennefer would not be given the choice.

She had almost forgotten the ache that now settled into her bones, the way her back spasmed and sent sharp pain through her legs when she moved.

Wait, why was she moving?

Yennefer’s eyes fluttered open to the same sight that had changed her life once before: Tissaia de Vries standing over her, judging her weakness, and yet, showing her a certain kindness all the same. Yennefer was tempted to jerk away from Tissaia, but her muscles felt like they had atrophied and they could not hold her weight.

Tissaia held her the same way she always had – her grip firm, but her actions surprisingly gentle. It brought Yennefer back to the times she had needed assistance with physical therapy in order to maintain any sort of range of motion. Tissaia had always assisted her personally – she had never been passed off to another instructor or student.

Once, Yennefer might have thought that meant something.

Now, though, she understood the way Aretuza worked. They took away her ability to create life, to make that choice, and sent her away so the only family she had ever known, the only loyalty she had was to _them_. 

Not anymore.

Tissaia may think that Aretuza was worth fighting for, but Yennefer didn’t.

She didn’t want to acknowledge what that meant about why she _had_ fought.

Yennefer’s thoughts were sluggish and she could vaguely hear voices above her, but none of it filtered through. All she knew was that she was now lying down somewhere soft and spongy that was cool against her skin and smelled like moss. Yennefer didn’t know where she was or how she came to be here – all she knew was that she ached all over in a way she hadn’t in half a century and that Tissaia was with her again. She couldn’t tell whether the Tissaia who settled hot waterbottles against her back was the one from her memories at the Academy or if it was happening in the present.

A cup was pressed against her lips and someone poured a smooth liquid down her throat. Yennefer struggled not to choke, but a pleasant numbness followed in its wake, and before she knew it, her thoughts were fading to black.

––

_Yennefer blinked her eyes open to a place that felt oddly familiar, though she knew she had never seen it before. Sand dunes stretched out in every direction and the night sky was filled with stars she could easily see, even with the strange pink and purple light coming from behind her._

_Yennefer turned and saw a huge tree, towering high above her. She could_ see _the magic radiating off of it, even from a distance. It was the source of the light, tendrils of sparkling pink and purple seemed to draw up from the sand, circle around the base of the tree, and emanate off into the night sky._

_A sound like a thousand whispers combined circled around Yennefer, and still that odd sense of familiarity dragged at her._

_“Yennefer the Violet Flame,” the whispers coalesced into words. The voice it created was naggingly familiar as well._

_“How do I know you?” Yennefer demanded. “What are you?”_

_A strand of light reached out and curled around her. Where it touched, it felt warm and comforting, like the feeling of rising after a rejuvenating rest. “We are Shan-Kayan. We are the Heart of all Chaos, and now, we are part of you.”_

_“You did this to me?” Yennefer asks, gesturing down at her humped shoulder. “What gave you the right!?” She yelled._

_“It is the cost of Chaos. You drew on more than you had to give. But not so much to expend yourself entirely.” The tendril of light brushed against Yennefer’s cheek, as if bestowing affection. “And you surprised us. You and the child – such surprises this war has brought.”_

_Yennefer’s fists clenched and she forced herself to pull away from the light. “You’re the same as the Brotherhood! You take my choice without ever asking! Without even acknowledging that it should be_ mine!”

_The light seemed almost sad at her rejection, but it did not withdraw. Instead, it hovered in front of her, there if she changed her mind. Yennefer refused to let herself do so._

_“That is Chaos. For all power, there is a cost.” The voice sounded almost chiding, and Yennefer refused to take this._

_“Let me out of this dream,” Yennefer snarled. “I will not listen to those with all the power criticize me for taking what they have always had!”_

_The light finally drew away, and the dark of the night sky began to close in around her and the tree. “Criticism does not matter. The Laws of Chaos cannot be defied. But they can be understood.”_

_The last thing Yennefer heard before the darkness closed around her completely was a whisper, not a mass of them like before, but a singular, tremulous voice. “You will be the one to understand it.”_

––

The agony was less the next time Yennefer woke. Whatever hallucinogen had given her that vision, it was apparently decent at pain relief. It was unlike any of the herbs she’d ever had – her muscles felt loose and relaxed in a way she could hardly remember them ever being in this body. Even if weird visions were the exchange, perhaps it would be worth it to see what this miracle cure was. Maybe they’d let her take some with her when she left.

Yennefer let herself enjoy the relaxation for a time before finally opening her eyes. The last thing she wanted was to move and risk the pain coming back, but there were a number of urgent issues clamouring for attention in her head. Yennefer turned her head, and met the icy cold eyes of the only person who had ever taken care of her.

“Tissaia,” she murmured. Her lips felt slow to respond, but she was oddly unbothered by it. She let her appreciation of her lack of pain overtake her mind, drowning out the noisy thoughts. “What are you doing here?”

Tissaia brushed her hair off her forehead and Yennefer was half-convinced she was dreaming again. “You vanished after the battle.” Tissaia’s knuckles clenched. “You disappeared. I followed the traces of your magic here.”

“Brokilon Forest,” Yennefer nodded and surprise briefly flashed across Tissaia’s face. “Whatever they gave me induced a vision. But it also makes it not hurt.” Yennefer closed her eyes and her bright demeanor fell. “It said this was my _cost_. For reaching for power.” Yennefer let her shoulder fall onto Tissaia’s shoulder. All the reasons she’d been bitter towards her mentor seemed muted now, and all she wanted was the small comfort Tissaia had sparingly offered her as a child.

She had only attended Aretuza for four years, but it had been the only time in her life where someone had sought to assist her with the pain and the other issues her body had. Yennefer’s “family” had certainly never cared, and Yennefer had only discovered the herbs that worked for pain by accident.

“Yennefer,” Tissaia said softly. She sounded exhausted, and suddenly Yennefer felt it too. 

“Do you think everything is back as it was before the transformation?” Yennefer’s voice was small. She wasn’t sure how Tissaia would react to the question – certainly the last time they’d spoken about the cost of transformation, she had been dismissive. Though, Yennefer acknowledged, she hadn’t exactly explained her position either, had she?

Right now, having that fight seemed like too much energy. 

Tissaia didn’t start anything, though. “I don’t know,” she said. “I – there is magic here that does not make sense.” That was all she said, and Yennefer frowned at her.

What did that mean? Yennefer could feel the Chaos around her the same as always. Actually, it almost felt closer to the surface within her – easier to access in a way it had _never_ been before. That was a relief – Yennefer had struggled long and hard for her skills. She did not want to lose them.

Yennefer tilted her head and realized – she could feel more than just the Chaos within and around her. In fact, the entire world around her felt as if it were pulsing with power, but Yennefer couldn’t access it. Every time she tried, it felt just out of reach. Nothing Tissaia had ever taught her let her touch it.

“You’re right,” Yennefer said quietly. “What is that? Why can’t I–”

“That is Shan-Kayan.” Yennefer felt gratified that Tissaia startled at the voice behind them as well. They spun around, Yennefer braced against Tissaia when her balance felt precarious. The voice belonged to a broad, dark-skinned woman dressed in leathers. From the way the armed women behind her deferred to the woman, she was clearly in charge here. “I am Queen Eithné, and you are welcomed in our Forest for sanctuary.” She looked Yennefer over consideringly. “You are the second guest Shan-Kayan has taken an interest in of recent.”

Yennefer blinked, then remembered, “oh, it mentioned a child?”

Eithné nodded. “She left us recently, but I feel that your Destinies shall be tied together.”

Yennefer scoffed. “There’s no such thing as Destiny. That’s just an excuse people with power use to control you.”

Tissaia inhaled sharply and pulled back from her. “You don’t believe that,” she said lowly.

“No? I’ve got a fucking djinn wish to prove otherwise! People blame Destiny so they don’t have to take responsibility for what they’ve done!” Yennefer’s voice had risen sharply and she realized she was panting. She usually enjoyed having all eyes on her, but at the moment, it only infuriated her. “If ‘Destiny’,” she sneered, “really is to blame, then fuck that! I will never submit to _any_ power!”

Most people, when faced with an enraged sorceress, tended to make themselves smaller and less of a target. Queen Eithné actually _smiled_ at her, as if her outburst was amusing. Yennefer snarled, but Tissaia’s fingers wrapping tight around her wrist stopped her from reaching for Chaos and attacking.

“I did not intend to rile you up. You have reason to distrust Destiny.” Eithné waved a hand, and her warriors stood down. “So it will comfort you to know that tie no longer exists.”

Yennefer froze. “What?”

“Shan-Kaya’s healing properties include the removal of curses.” Yennefer tilted her head in confusion, and Eithné continued, “the wish itself may have involved Destiny – that is a power beyond me. But the _granting_ of the wish is the curse. The Waters of Brokilon can remove a djinn’s power over any affected.”

Yennefer felt like the ground had dropped from under her. She was free. Geralt’s wish could no longer tie her to the Witcher. The wish could no longer influence either of their feelings. She felt something in her chest release, and suddenly it felt easier to breathe than it had since the Witcher had brought a djinn to her doorstep.


End file.
